


Chronicles of Catman

by SacredPanda



Series: Chronicles of Catman [1]
Category: Exalted
Genre: Cultists, Lunar, Multi, Public Sex, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SacredPanda/pseuds/SacredPanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story I've been working on using a Lunar character my friend Kivva built for a tabletop RPG called Exalted. Apparently DA has some very specific rules on what can and cannot be posted even when using the Mature Content filter so I'm posting this here.</p><p>This is the story of Woneyi Roxil, a man that has all the dumb, but all the love, and the many humans that worship him as though her were a god.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Receiving the Gift of Luna - The Origin of Catman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a story I've been working on using a Lunar character my friend Kivva built for a tabletop RPG called Exalted. Apparently DA has some very specific rules on what can and cannot be posted even when using the Mature Content filter so I'm posting this here.
> 
> This is the story of Woneyi Roxil, a man that has all the dumb, but all the love, and the many humans that worship him as though her were a god. Be warned this will get quite a bit ... smuttier .. in the future, once I work up the courage to write (and actually post) the smutty stuff.

My name is Kile Kahanna, I have been a faithful Maiden in the shrine of Catman for three years and he has chosen me to begin writing the chronicle of his life. This is his story so I won’t bore you with my own details, just know I will record his words as he speaks them to me. I have asked him to start at the beginning to the future will know the man we’ve come to worship.

-

I was born 19 years ago, supposedly on the Blessed Isle, though I never knew my mother and father, or any other family related by blood. A woman saw my father abandon me in the south, away from any realm cities. She took me home to her husband and raised me until I could walk and work. To see she raised me would not be entirely true though. As an infant I was placed into the care of her husband’s slaves. The only skills I was taught were those necessary for farming. However, I lived as happily as I could with the slaves. They were kind to me, they genuinely cared for my wellbeing, they were the closest thing to family I knew and I loved them all. Unfortunately, when I was 9 that woman and her husband decided it was time for the workers to be culled. Many of them had grown old and feeble and needed to be cleared away for younger workers. The locked all of us, the younger ones included, into the shack where we lived before setting fire to it. It wouldn’t be good for our morale after all to see our family burned alive, so the intention was to remove us all at once.

They were able to lift me through a window, yelling out for me to escape, to run as far as I could. I didn’t want to leave them, I tried to open the door but I was too weak, I couldn’t break the lock. To this day I still wake from my sleep sometimes remember the sounds of their screams, the scent of burning flesh, the tastes of the salt from my own tears. I still remember vowing to myself that I would become strong enough to save everyone in need. I didn’t gain true strength for many years after that, but making that promise changed my life forever. For many years I live as a wanderer, with no home and no hope. I often felt as if I died in that shack with everyone else, but it wasn’t in me to truly give up.

I had no choice but to cultivate the only skills I could to survive, stealth and thievery became my trade out of necessity. It wasn’t long before other abandoned children started following me. We relied on each other to feed ourselves, creating diversions to steal a stale loaf of bread or some fruit from a market stall. We improved our skills together until there was no stall or shop we couldn’t loot. By the time I was 15 there were more than 30 of us, all easily capable of gathering enough food to feed ourselves, and the less fortunate adults we encountered on our way. Our numbers had grown too much to continue wandering though. In the east we encountered a ruined building, some kind of forgotten temple, it was a perfect place to set up. We expanded our operations, stealing food, clothing, blankets, and everything of the sort we could. It wasn’t just for ourselves anymore. The sick, the homeless, and the outcasts of society that learned of us were welcome to come and take what they needed. Following my orders, my thieves began building a small village nearby. A place of peace we could control. My childhood was finally a benefit; when people came to us we would send them to the budding village and teach them about farming. We built a place where they could sustain themselves and live happy lives.

My life went on like that for another 2 years. I had grown restless, though I had practiced the skills to provide for others, I still felt so weak. I visited the village, which now had over 100 residents, almost daily to make sure they were doing well. I was proud of what we built, the people were bringing in others that needed a true home. So many people were being saved from miserable lives, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy me. One day as I approached, I heard screams, the smell of smoke filled my lungs and I remembered that day from many years ago. I was acutely aware of my weakness but it didn’t matter. My people were being attacked, a group of bandits had heard the village was founded by thieves. They likely expected to find hidden riches though there was nothing of the sort.

I rushed in, armed only with my fists. It wasn’t a choice, but a need to save them. My own mind was blur at the time, my thoughts came too quickly to be clear so I can’t tell the story of that day very well. However, one part is distinct, an unforgettable moment in my life. I remember bleeding, I had been beaten and stabbed, cut and burned, but I wouldn’t stop fighting. My vision was hazy and I was dizzy, I was frightfully close to death but I couldn’t stop until all of my people were safe. That’s when I saw her.

A beautiful woman stood before me wearing a dress of untreated leather. She was covered in blood, silver horns like a ram’s protruded from her head, and she had a wildness in her eyes. She smiled at me, seemingly unware of the chaos around us. I felt something change inside myself when she reached out to me but before her hand could reach my skin the world snapped back into focus. I fought harder, I killed so many of the intruders until the rest ran. I saw the blood on hands, no, my claws. My skin was covered in thick black fur, my nails had become silver claws. My feet were more like large paws, I approached the well to clean myself, but my own reflection was a stranger. Staring back at me was the face of a cat, I expected fear from the people in the village even though I had saved them.

Their reaction however, was the opposite. As my instincts allowed me to become a man once more they drew water to wash away the blood. One man ran to the temple to fetch new clothes, as mine had torn when I changed, they no longer fit though, they were too small for me. When I was able to calm myself, I knew what happened, what I had become. As I child I often heard stories of the Anathema, the Celestial Exalted so hated by the Dragon Blooded. I knew the stories of the Solars, self-proclaimed rulers of Creation. I also knew the stories of the Lunars, tricksters that changed faces as easily as clothes. Men that became beasts whenever it suited them. I had only ever heard that were both equally bad, that they sought to take Creation away from the rightful kings, the Terrestrial Exalts called Dragon Blooded.

 

Only days later a strange woman came to the village. She approached me, somehow knowing what I was. Xipoba Tawasu was her name. She brought me away, to teach me about what I was. She told me the history of the Exalts. How the Solars were created to fight a war saving Creation, and the Lunars were created to aid them. She told me the Solars were always meant to be the Kings and Queens of Creation, that it was the Dragon Blooded that usurped that role. Even so, Tawasu had nothing good to say about the Solars. She said they weakened Creation, they weakened the Mortals so they could no longer fend for themselves, that it was the Lunars that would be the salvation of humans.

Her words struck something deep in my heart. That’s what I always wanted, to have the power to save everyone. Luna must have seen that in me, so she gave me her gift. I embraced it, I allowed Tawasu to teach me to be stronger. I learned the sacred hunt, to learn new shapes, on our way to a location unknown to me. We were going to a rare event she called the Gathering. A time when Lunars from across Creation collected to share information and evaluate each other. I was exhilarated, strangely exited to meet these Anathema, to see what would become of the power I had been given.


	2. The Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxil is whisked away by the Lunar that will (technically) be his Mentor - Xipoba Tawasu - who brings him to a Gathering conveniently planned for a short time after he Exalted.

“I need to speak with the elders for a moment.” Tawasu said, unsure if she should leave Roxil on his own. “Head over there,” She pointed to a large stone slab covered in meats and barrels surround by several fairly young people. “That’s where we’re sending all the new Exalts. You should have plenty to talk about with them.” She sighed as the man walked away from her, he had a curious nature but seemed to lack intelligence entirely. Tawasu worried he wouldn’t be the greatest influence on the other fledglings.

Approaching the stone table Roxil took a piece of meat without a word and sat on the ground to eat. A few of the others looked at him suspiciously. He wore no shirt, exposing his skin that was remarkably free of the silver tattoos they all had.

“What’s your name, Casteless?” A man asked him, he said the word casteless with a sneer.

“Roxil,” He said with his mouth full. “Why’d you call me casteless?”

“You refused your tattoos. You have any idea how dumb that is? I’m sure you were told what happens without them.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How is that even possible? How long ago did you exalt?”

“You mean when I turned into a cat? Two days ago.” He simply continued to eat without noticing the shocked expressions.

“Lucky you,” A woman said. “Coming to a Gathering so fresh. I exalted over 6 months ago and this is the first time I’ve met Lunars other than my mentor.”

“Roxil!” Tawasu waived him over.

“What? I just sat down.”

“This is Aniya, she wants to test you now.”

“Test? I don’t think I like that.” The woman chuckled at his response. She led him away already asking a series of questions, probing him for his reactions to various circumstances. It took only minutes for an experienced Lunar such as herself to place him. She told him he would be a Changing Moon, and that he was fortunate they could start the fixing process immediately.

“It will take 3 nights to apply your tattoos. Luna smiles on you, that the first appropriate night is already upon us. Moonsilver is the metal blessed by our lady, and when applied to your body it will protect you. Change is always meant to be a Lunars choice, but we are particularly vulnerable to the Wyld.” Others began to gather around them as Aniya ordered him to sit on a rock leaning forward. Her own protégé brought her a large leather sack. She pulled from it a large nail and a clouded jar. Almost nothing had been explained to him and he was not prepared. Aniya applied some of the liquefied silver to her nail, and with a small hammer began embedding it into his skin. He winced, doing his best not to show the pain and discomfort he felt.

She continued working for nearly 5 hours until his back and arms were covered in a swirling pattern. The skin around the fresh tattoos bled and felt stiff when he moved. He kept his most confident face on, there were many people watching him and he refused to show weakness.

“I insulted you too soon,” The man from earlier said. “My name is Aran, I’m sorry. Changing Moon, eh? Don’t worry, it’s only the best caste.” The others seemed far more welcoming now. As the night went on some started to play music while the others danced, feasted, and fought. None of this had Roxil’s attention. He was staring off into the darkness where some others were gathered in a circle. In the middle of the group was man kneeling on the ground with a woman’s legs wrapped around his waist. Roxil wandered over to them as they cheered at the two on the ground. When he approached one of the bystanders handed him a small pouch filled with powder. Roxil’s questioning expression was answered.

“Celestial cocaine. Everything is better when you can see essence, everything. If you want to participate it I highly suggest it.”

“Participate?” Roxil followed the direction of the man’s finger, pointed at the two blinded by passion.

“No!” Tawasu ran to him shouting. “No cocaine! Not until your tattoos are completed. After that I really don’t care what you do. Cocaine is out of the question.”

“But, they look like they’re having so much fun!” he protested.

“And if you aren’t thinking clearly and start shifting without the full protection of the tattoos? Don’t blame me when you start growing extra arms, or scales on your human body. And just how much fun do you think sex will be when you’re already bruised and bleeding? Why don’t you just settle for a mug of mead for now?” As disappointed as he was Roxil chose to head her suggestions.

The night of the gathering passes, as well as several others before Aniya showed up again. Another several hours were spent hamming metal into his chest and legs. Another several nights later she returned again for the finishing touches. He was relieved the process was over. Once the last of his tattoos were healed he would be fully welcomed into the Lunar society. There was only one barrier before that could happen, his mentor, Tawasu had grown quite frustrated with him. Roxil had never had a proper education, he never even learned how to read. Her teaching style was not very hands-on, she wanted nothing more than to leave him with texts but it was just scribbles on parchment to him.

_Catman_ , he heard a whisper in his mind. _Come home to us, Catman!_ Followed by another whisper. _We miss you, Roxil!_ The voices were familiar to him. Then it occurred to him, he hadn’t been home in over 3 weeks.


	3. Total Party Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this is my first time writing anything so ... graphic. Sorry if it isn't very good, I'm sure I could use a bit of practice but here's part 3. After Roxil returns to his village I pretty much speed through the time the character was in play in the campaign to get to what Kivva called they 'Total Party Breakdown' something that never happened in their group before even after they RPd various games together for ... 15 years? Anyway the character was retired from the campaign after the party breakdown which means from that point on in the story there wont be any pesky missions to get in the way of his personal pursuits.

Roxil was as excited as he was nervous about returning home after the gathering. The last time any of the people had seen him was a rare moment of violence, he had taken the lives of many people and had the blood on his body to show it. He never would have expected what he saw when he got back. The temple near the village had been restored, in front of it was a large stone sculpture of himself with words he didn’t understand etched into the bottom.  


“The Savior of Sikomarron.” A familiar voice said.  


“Kahanna,”  


“Our god has returned!” She shouted, before turning back to him and grabbing his hand. God? He wondered. The girl led him into the temple where others were already busy heating water over a massive fire, pouring it into a metal basin large enough to fit several people. “You’re dirty, Catman. You’d like a bath, wouldn’t you?”  


“Catman? You know my name is Roxil, but you’re right, a bath would be great. He stripped off his clothing without shame and stepped into the tub, relaxing in the hot water. He sighed happily closing his eyes when he felt a soft wet cloth against his shoulders. He nearly purred when someone went to work cleaning days of dirt from his chest. Still, his eyes shot wide open when the cloth moved further down, past his stomach to his hips.  


“Is it not alright?” The girl asked, moving her hand to the inside of his thigh.  


“Fine,” He mumbled, though he was noticeably tense. “Only if it’s for you, not me.”  


“Why not both?” She whispered in his ear stepping into the water herself.  


“Both,” He mumbled again, relaxing once more as she climbed onto his lap. “I like that,” was the last thing he said before she kissed him, reaching down into the water to stroke him gently, smiling when he began to harden. He sighed softly when she pulled away from his lips planting a trail of kisses down his neck and on his chest which heaved with the quickening of his breath. When his hips began moving against his will she still did not increase the strength or speed of her strokes, intentionally teasing him. Roxil could take no more torture so he lifted her off his lap with ease, leaning her back so he could hover above her. He was unsure of his own actions as he reached between the girl’s legs inserting a single finger gently. This entire experience was new to him, and all the techniques that went with it. He added a second finger, kissing her deeply at the same time, and rubbed her inside until she let out small sound that intensified his need.  


Without warning he removed his hand, pressing his fully hardened length into her, gently at first. Kahanna gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck lifting her legs over his hips. It made her blush when he looked directly into her eyes before pushing all the way in, pausing at the wonderful heat. He couldn’t wait long, however, his urges took over forcing him to begin moving. At first the motion was slow and careful, but increased in speed and strength quickly.  


They were unaware of the others at the temple that watched, blushing brighter each time he grunted, each time she moaned into his kisses. They were unaware when some of the onlookers began to touch themselves. They were too engulfed in their own passion to be aware of anyone else. Roxil had only just found his rhythm when the girl clenched tighter around him, involuntarily pulling him deeper with her legs and gasping his name in his ear between uncontrolled moans. Each time his name was spoken his thrusts grew stronger and more erratic until he also reached his limit. Roxil groaned loudly remaining still for just a few moments before moving away, pulling Kahanna to rest on top of him as he leaned back once more to relax with his eyes closed.

-

Roxil woke, wrapped in soft blankets with the sun shining down on him through the open space in the temple roof. Kahanna was sprawled out next to him running a finger around his new tattoos where his dark tan skin was still red. When he moved she rolled away and dipped a cup into a large barrel nearby, breaking it back and offering him the deep purple liquid which he gladly accepted.  


“Why was your skin marked? It looks so painful.”  


“It’ll be fine. You called me god earlier, but surely you know what I really am?”  


“Anathema, my mother always called the Exalted Anathema. You aren’t bad though, I know you.”  


“I became a Lunar when…”  


“When you saved us? It doesn’t matter what you really are. You’re no mortal, and we owe our lives to you. We’ll happily worship you until we die.”  


“But the real gods,”  


“Won’t be forgotten.” She assured him. “Though unlike you, they seemed to have forgotten us. We’ll keep them in our prayers, but you’re the one that deserves whatever power our worship grants you. With it you’ll also have all the privileges of our love and devotion.” She slid her hand under the blanket to rub against him. “Not just for you, but for us as well.” She whispered. He whimpered when she stood suddenly putting on her dress. “I’m hungry,” She remarked with a playful smile.

-

He enjoyed life in his temple for another two years, no one minded that he preferred what Tawasu called his War form; not a man, or a cat, but both. No one minded that he saw no need for pants when he was covered in fur. No one minded that in this shape he kept his food to himself, as it consisted mostly of uncooked meat. Nothing he did seemed strange to them, they embraced every part of him. He had a sense like something calling to him though, something he had to do far away. He apologized to his people as he packed only a single pair of pants, a chain shirt made from Moonsilver given to him by Tawasu, and a large bottle of the village’s wine into a bag. Before leaving he visited his several children, the only beastmen in the village, and kissed each one on the forehead promising to return.  


He walked for several days, not entirely sure where he was going. It was only when he was starting to feel discouraged that he encountered another person. The man introduced himself as Naxan and went on saying a lot of things Roxil didn’t care to listen to about the glory of the Unconquered Sun. Together they encountered more Solars. Fluttering Cloud, Fading Comet, Dunwe, and Taria. He traveled with them for 2 years doing what they could to solve mortal problems. Roxil saw firsthand how the Solars thought it should be done. They seemed to think mortals could only live with Exalts in charge. Tawasu was right, the Solars weakened humans until they forgot how to control their own lives.  


They had many strange adventures, including but not limited to being sent both backward and forward in time. They encountered more than one Abyssal along the way, one made Roxil question being blessed by Luna for the first time. It had never occurred to him that Abyssals were once Solars, not until he met Ebon Tsunami. He had vague memories of Tawasu trying to Explain Solar bonds to him. Every Lunar had a Solar mate, a single Solar they were uncontrollably loyal to. The Abyssal Ebon Tsunami was his. He held himself back closing his eyes tight, it was all he could do not to protect her. She was evil and he knew it, he had no reservations about killing evil people but he couldn’t bring himself to attack her. There was no lack of joy when the fight was over, Ebon Tsunami was killed (or so he thought) and they were able to move on.  


He spent 3 years with the Solars, and he enjoyed almost none of that time. However, the day he left them was worse then he would have imagined. He had been more violent that day than he had ever been. They encountered a group of pirates, led by Dragon Blooded. The fought and killed the Dragon Bloods without hesitation, the argument started when they had the mortal pirates closed in a barn. It was agreed that the pirates needed to die, they stole from people in need, they murdered, they sold their fellow humans into slavery; they were a poison to Creation and Roxil could not allow it. He and Fading Comet were in agreement there. Naxan and Fluttering Cloud felt differently, they thought all humans deserved a chance at redemption, even those that had already been given that chance and refused. Fading Comet and Dunwe came to blows over the difference in opinion, the confrontation ended in Dunwe’s death.  


Since traveling with the Solars Roxil had on several occasions experienced something very much like Luna’s Kiss; a time when Lunars were exposed to the full moon and became entirely driven by their instincts. It was different on those occasions though, it would happen even during the day and usually had far more violent results. He experienced this again when Dunwe died. When he could no longer allow the argument to continue he took to his war form and ripped a torch from Naxan’s hand, without waiting for permission and without warning he set the flames on the barn. The fire caught quickly, consuming the walls before it could be stopped. He snapped out of the Kiss only long enough to realize what he had done. The memories of that day when he was a child flooded back again, and those memories drove him further into his frenzy.  
He took to his spirit form, the great cat, and ran into the wilderness. He kept running and didn’t stop until he reached the edge of Creation, he looked back longing for his home, but he felt no right to return. Instead he stepped into the Wyld and continued running once more.


	4. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you prepared for a massive time skip? Well if not, sucks to be you. There's a homecoming about to happen and someone is going to enjoy it.

It had been a little over 200 years since the day Roxil left his Solar companions. It had been a little over 200 years since he had interacted with another person. In fact, it had been a little over 200 years since he had been a person. What he had experience, the total breakdown of his group, Dunwe’s murder; something inside Roxil broke that day and he exiled himself into the Wyld roaming alone for 2 centuries.

Today the 800lb cat set a paw in Creation for the first time in all those years. Home, he felt like he didn’t belong there anymore, like he had no right to go back after leaving for so long. He questioned if he should be in Creation at all. The thought was nearly blasphemous for a Lunar, a steward of Creation, and he knew it. Though he couldn’t help himself, when he broke it was like forsaking Luna’s gift to him. However, in those 200 years he had heard the prayers of his people begging for his return and he couldn’t ignore them any longer. Though the people he had known never saw the face of their god even to their last breaths, their children – and his – remembered him. They never lost their faith. The new generation took up the ways taught by Catman, a legend to them. The thought passed through his mind once more, for the length of his first breath of Creation’s air, was it really fine for him to come back?

Catman, he heard the girl’s voice in his mind. My grandmother told me so much about you. Your portrait has been in our home since long before I was even born. Every day I wake up and look at your face thinking, I wish with all my heart I could meet you. If you truly do hear us, Catman, I long to see you as more than paint in the confines of a frame. I’m a woman today, and I’ve chosen to become a maiden in your temple in Sikomarron. I’ll follow your laws with everything I am in hopes that one day you’ll stop being a story I was told. In hopes that one day my love will reach you and you’ll come back to us.

With a blur of silky black fur and a new sense of motivation he transformed to his War form, far stronger than the day he left Creation. He stretched his humanoid arms and legs having grown unfamiliar with the feel of them. He took a deep breathe, drawing himself to this shapes full height, a little over 12 feet. That girl’s prayers had helped him regain some confidence, he thought, observing his feline face in a still pool of water. These legs could carry him much faster, much longer than his other true forms. With another deep breath he took off running, and would continue to run for 8 days and nights, stopping only to hunt when he needed food. That was one of the many benefits his war form provided. He was able to function without rest as long as he needed to, though it often left him exhausted.

The closer he got the more eager her became. What had started as a single village with barely over 100 people had become 3 villages of the same size, all 3 were now large sprawling cities with each temple at the center. One of them had to be the first to witness his return, without a second thought he headed toward the girl that strengthened his confidence, toward Sikomarron. He ran with such speed that the jungle trees around him were a blur as they steadily grew smaller. By mid-morning on the eight day he had gotten so close he couldn’t even bring himself to stop and hunt. He kept going until the city walls were in sight, until the walls were behind him, until he entered the farmlands, still he kept going until he reached the massive stairs leading up to a statue of himself.

It was that statue that brought his doubt rushing back. He had been away so long he had forgotten his own face. He sighed, falling to his knees and hanging his head.

“You came,” A girl said, with a voice that smooth and gentle. A pale, slender hand reached down, lifting his chin so she could look into his face. “I’ve only seen pictures of your face as a man, but I know those eyes. You came home to us, Catman.”

“Roxil,” His voice shook. Could she really be so happy to see someone who could leave for centuries without warning? His fur faded and his body shrank as he transitioned into his human shape. It did not even occur to him that he would still be unclothed, though the girl didn’t look away. “My name, I want you to say it.”

“You came home to us, Roxil.” It sounded so sweet, he never realized how much he had longed to be in the presence of humans. He was breathing heavily when he tried to stand, but his knees trembled giving in to the exhaustion he felt.

“I’m sorry,”

“No, don’t apologize.” She waved to someone out of his view, a man that approached with a golden goblet filled with the deep purple wine he remembered. She took his hand, wrapping it gently around the cup and pressing it to his lips.

“Just the same,” He purred. “Your voice,”

“Do you not like it?” Her expression was worried.

“No, it’s beautiful. So many voices, but yours was so clear. It was your words that brought me back.” She blushed at his statement.

“I’m sorry, it was selfish of me. It’s only, well when I received my maiden’s gown I vowed – like all those living in the temple – that I would be saved only for you. But I was afraid, I didn’t know if I would ever see you, if you would ever know,”

“Only for me,” He repeated more to himself than anything else. His thoughts came to a stop when she kissed him, causing him to drop the cup, reaching up to put his hands on her face. In that moment, he had no control of himself. It had been so long, he had forgotten the feel of another person’s skin, of soft lips on his. He hadn’t even realized when he leaned her back right out on the large temple steps easily taking both her wrists in one hand, using the other to take in the curves of her body. He pulled the string at the neckline of her dress with his teeth until the knot was undone nudging it down her shoulders without removing his hands from her. The girl struggled just slightly, not trying to move away but closer. The hand that had been busily exploring her body stopped it's work to push the hem of her skirt up her pale thigh. If this were any other time he would enjoy slowly teasing her, making her beg for him, unfortunately this was now and he had ceased recognizing anything other than his own need.

The girl winced and bit her lip to stop herself from crying out when he suddenly entered her. He didn't pause or wait for her to adjust. He would regret it later but now all that was in his mind were the animalistic instincts that wanted pleasure. He continued thrusting into her still holding her wrists with the one hand, the other now trapping her hips in place. The Lunar took her exposed nipple between his lips flicking it with his tongue finally eliciting the sweet sound he wanted to hear when she moaned softly. This was far more painful than she had anticipated but all the discomfort was giving way to another feeling. She began breathing rapidly as a heat built up in her abdomen and her back arched away from the carved stone beneath her. He suddenly stopped only long enough to turn her over holding her hips up with both hands now, thrusting harder and faster than before. Within moments she felt her insides clenched hard around him. She tried to pull away, not out of fear or pain but from the intensity of her pleasure. She loved and hated that he was too strong, keeping her close with ease as he continued pounding deeper into her. She was moaning loudly now unable to control herself as the Lunar lost his cadence finally finding the release he had denied himself for too long. With a loud sigh of relief he fell to the pavement beside the girl without a care in his mind until he truly realized what had just occurred. 

"I hurt you," He said, bolting upright noticing the faint bruises beginning to appear on her wrists and hips where his hands had been. He should have known better. He was stronger than any human from the moment he exalted and had only become stronger still during his exile in the Wyld.

"Yes," She admitted. "But you did nothing wrong. You did nothing I didn't allow. I came here wanting you to do with me whatever you wished, even if you were only using me." She pressed a finger to his lips before he could interrupt her. "I know that isn't what happened, I know you care for me even if we've only just met. You must have been alone for so long, have you even satisfied yourself in all that time? I saw the hunger in your eyes from the first moment you touched me, and I suspected this could happen. Do not blame yourself for the decisions I made."

"At least tell me your name, I didn't even ask,"

"Of course" The girl smiled. "I was named after my great-grandmother, a beautiful name she said you would love. I am called Kile Kahanna." She laughed at his concerned expression. "Do not worry, I have no relation to you. My grandfather was born from the husband Kahanna took after you left. He did however have a half brother that left a child of his own, perhaps you'd like to meet him?"


End file.
